When someone dies everything
else is left behind:
the mountains and the houses
in some distant county,
and that road that passes
on Sundays over the wooden bridge
before heading out of town.
And the spring sunshine
that in late afternoon
finally reaches the shelf of books
and magazines that must
also have once been new.
It’s really not that strange.
But it still never ceases
to surprise me.
Henrik Nordbrandt
“When Someone Dies”
Translated by Patrick Phillips
When We Leave Each Other
Open Letter Books
2013
